


As You Were

by magicspills



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Wayward Son - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Carry On My Wayward Son, Drama & Romance, M/M, SnowBaz, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-17 23:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14841512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicspills/pseuds/magicspills
Summary: Simon Snow is trying to, as you would say, carry on with life after Watford. And with the Insidious Humdrum defeated and his mentor dead, Simon finds its harder than expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON 
> 
> Unofficial Carry On sequel because I couldn't help myself.

The thing with magic is that it is constantly drawing you in. It forces its way into your life, making it hard to avoid. But then one day you wake up and suddenly, the feeling is gone. The strong sense of power, and force and magic, gone. All in a blink of an eye. It's a pain in the ass to wake up and realize that suddenly you're not a beacon for all things magical, but a normal boy with a normal life, doing normal things. (Not well, I may add, but that's the normal way I guess. Everything can't always be so perfect) but it's all so weird and completely different. 

When I lost my magic, Penny was the first to comfort me in a time of need. She said that it was going to be okay, that I will be okay. 

“You don't need magic to be a hero, Simon,”

I believe her. Penny is always right. 

Still. It doesn't help that everyday when I wake up, I still feel empty. Magic has always played a big fraction in my life and when I lost to the Insidious Humdrum two years ago, suddenly the path I was supposed to take became harder and harder to find. Where does it say in the prophecy on what to do if the Chosen One loses his power? 

“Stop thinking. You'll get frown lines, Snow,” Baz would say. He'll always be interrupting my train of thought. 

“Am not.” I'll mutter, knowing well that I shouldn't be thinking this much. 

I do that now. I think. Ever since I defeated the Humdrum and lost my magic, about a million thoughts run through my head, but Baz never lets me get too deep. 

I think it's because he knows I've changed and he's trying his best to keep me from going off the rails. Then he'll kiss me like at any moment I'll disappear from his grasp. 

We’re only ever soft like that when we’re content in the moment and for the first time in the longest time we let our guard down and let ourselves be vulnerable in front of each other. Most days with Baz include snarky remarks and arguments that lead to kisses behind locked doors. We almost never apologize, when we’re wrapped up comfortably in each other’s arms, it speaks for the both of us. 

My absurd devil's tail wraps itself around my ankle. It only ever does that when I start to think more and more. It really does have a mind of its own. I'm slowly getting used to having the wings and tail around, some days it is a complete bother. Before, I could barely stand on two feet without making a fool of myself, now add dragon wings and a tail and it's like I've become a one man circus. 

I have thought about having them removed on multiple occasions. Just last week I fell down the stairs because my tail got in the way and I almost dragged Baz down with me. (Although that would have been a great opportunity for payback when he actually did push me down the stairs in fifth year.) But I think Baz actually likes having them around, even though he'll never admit it. 

I think I'll keep the wings and tail. Not because I enjoy the feeling of being mocked by Baz, but because it keeps me connected to magic. And I know that my magic isn't completely gone, but still, it feels nice to know that I still have the reminder of who I was. Who I used to be. 

I would be lying if I said I was disappointed about not being the Chosen One. When I found out, it was like a giant weight had been pulled off my chest. 

I feel it though. I feel the hum of the magic inside me. It's there, swirling around. But I can't reach it. That constant tugging I felt in the pit of my stomach, gone. My psychiatrist says it isn't my magic I feel, but something else. 

She says it's called “a void,” an empty feeling after being so full of power, after getting so used to magic and how normal it felt when I had it all at the tip of my fingers. She wasn’t wrong when she said that. I'm not Baz, I'm not Penny, I'm just me. I'm normal. 

I remember the first few weeks after defeating the Humdrum, after moving into a flat with Penny. I could barely get myself ready without making a mess of things. It was a disaster getting ready for university. Penny came to the rescue and ran a brush through my hair before I made it out the door.

“I'm sorry,” I said, as she struggled untangling a rather bothersome knot. I saw her shaking her head in the mirror. 

“Don't apologize for asking for help, Si,” she said, with a light smile. 

It feels weird, usually I'm able to do small chores around the house like any normal person would. But lately I’ve just felt drained.

Penny and Baz never use magic to help me with chores. They think they're helping me adjust to a magic-free zone, but they don't understand how hard it into conform to a new environment after getting so used to the old one. They would never know the hardships because they still have their magic intact.

“Simon.”

They have it all.

“Snow.”

They don’t understand.

“Simon.”

 

They never will.

“For Crowley’s sake, Snow!” A book collides with my side and I snap out of whatever trance I was in. Baz is standing by the doorframe of my bedroom, his arms folded across his chest and his eyebrow raised.

“Crowley, Baz, I was going to get up,” I say and sit up from my bed, rubbing my ribcage. “Just because there is no Anathema doesn’t give you the right to hit me whenever you feel like it.”

“But then how could I get you to wake up?” He says and saunters into the room, he sits on the edge of the bed. “You sleep like the dead, so it’s only best I throw an object at you to get you to wake up.”

I was awake, I’ve been awake since 3 in the morning. I still have the nightmares. Smoke, blood, emptiness. I couldn't bring myself to get up after that. 

“Ever thought about letting me sleep in?” I don’t feel like doing anything today. My bed feels more inviting than usual.

“Then you’ll miss breakfast.” He say. He bloody well knows that I would get up if food was involved.

I get up, ignoring that stupid smirk of his. I can’t help it, I’m weak. I pull the blankets off me and Baz jumps off the bed, startled.

“Merlin, Snow, you haven’t changed your clothes in, what? Two day?”

I shrug and pull my shirt off. It's easier now that Baz is my boyfriend. I don't have to worry about him seeing me without a shirt on, now it's just entertaining to see him shift in his spot on my bed and look away. If you look closely, you can see the faint tint of blush on his nose and cheeks. 

He's beautiful. 

Penelope is nowhere to be found when I'm finally dressed, on the small kitchen table she's made sausage, eggs, and hash browns with a scone on a plate with a note written in neat printing that reads: 'Gone to school. Eat something, Si. - Penny.’

“Why aren't you in class?” I turn to Baz who's picking up a hash brown and plopping it in his mouth, his fangs on full display. He's getting more comfortable with his vampire lifestyle, I'm proud of him. 

“I'm already ahead of my classes. It doesn't hurt to take a brain break every now and then.” He says with a shrug. Somehow I feel like there's more than he's letting on. I sit down at the table, with my chin in my hand. 

“You don't have to miss class just to look over me, Baz,” I say softly, and look down at this table, tracing shapes along the wood with my finger. “I'm not a child, I don't need a babysitter.”

“Snow, you haven't been in school for a week.”

“It's like you said, it doesn't hurt to take a break,”

“But for a whole week, Simon.” Baz sits at the table and looks at me through a curtain of his dark hair. It's gotten longer. And his jawline is more defined, and I think he's grown taller. Can he get anymore taller? I don't know. He's changed. He looks more mature than the boy I've gotten to know over these years. 

Age suits him well. 

“I know you don't need a babysitter, Simon,” he says, “but I'm worried about you. Half the time you're sleeping and the other half it's like you're somewhere else.”

I shove and spoonful of egg in my mouth to prove a point. I can eat, he has nothing to worry about. I'll be fine. 

Fuck, even I don't believe myself. But I don't want him to know that. 

“Baz, you don't have to miss school for me. Your education is more important than me, so please, go to school,” I give him a smile as sincere as I can muster. “please.”

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and looks like he's contemplating the idea before he shakes his head and takes another hash brown. 

“No.”

I don't try to fight him after that. Truth be told, there's a part of me who doesn't want him to leave. Because if he does end up leaving, how will I know if he comes back? Instead we sit in silence, picking at the breakfast Penny made. 

No words were said after that.


	2. Still remembering

Baz is nowhere to be seen when I wake up the next morning. He’s left a note, printed in neat, perfect handwriting that he’s gone to school and he expects me to have a shower and do worthwhile. He’s left a cup of coffee near my bed with a rose. 

Do we have any flowers near the apartment? I pick it up and give it a sniff. He probably spelled it to appear because if you look closely, you’ll see a vague shimmer of blue that can only be Baz’s signature.

It’s nearing 10’clock which means I Penny will call me to make sure I’m awake. I scrunch my nose when I catch a whiff of myself. It’s been a week since my last shower and the smell is slowly beginning to bother me. 

“Clean as a—” I say before I stop myself.

I freeze. Everything feels cloudy. Suddenly my mouth feels dry. Water, I need water. I rush to the bathroom and cup my hands to drink from the tap. Everything feels hot. I’m leaning against the sink and clutch the sides of the porcelain bowl. 

“Calm down, calm down,” I say to myself, my heartbeat showing no signs of slowing down. I end up sitting on the floor against the bathroom door, my hands are shaking as a million thoughts begin to cluster in my brain. 

This happens all the time. Everytime I mention magic, or when I forget I don't have magic, I gave these panic spells that take over my body. Penny says I should talk to my therapist about this, but I haven't spoken to her in a month. I've been avoiding her calls, but I think now is a good time than any to pick up the phone and talk to her. 

No. I can't do that. Then she'll keep asking me questions that I don't have the answer to, I'll shut down and she'll have to cut our appointment short. I can't do that to her. 

I end up sitting on the floor, waiting it out. 

I can't believe I tried to cast a spell. 

I can't believe that I have no magic. No real ties the magic world. 

That's not true. My brain says. You have Penny, and Baz, and that's more magical than anything. 

Only it's not real magic. It's not the type of magic that leaves you to tingling, (although Baz’s lips does have that effect on me) it's not the type of magic that keeps you detached from the Normal World. It doesn't feel right. 

It all feels wrong. 

My tail wraps itself around my wrist, and I've got half a mind to just rip it off. 

It's a painful fucking memory that only reminds me of how useless I am now that I'm not Simon Snow, the greatest mage that ever lived. Now I'm just Simon Snow, the bloke who can't even get the fucking microwave to work properly. (My toast always ends up burnt.)

My stomach growls, but I can't find the energy to get up and get something eat. So I ignore the pain that pulls in my stomach and sit there, staring off into space. 

I didn't even know I was crying until I feel the first teardrop run down my cheek. 

—

“Snow, what the fuck are you doing?”

Those are are the first words I hear when I wake up. 

Baz is standing over me, his hand is clutching the doorknob of the bathroom door. 

I hadn't realized I fell asleep. And on the bathroom floor nonetheless. I stand up, running a hand through my hair, sheepishly. “I was napping.”

“On the bathroom floor?” Baz raises an eyebrow at me. “You have a bed, use it.”

And just when I'm about to say something, the door slams shut and Baz peeks his head out. 

“It's Bunce, stay here, Snow.”

He walks out the bathroom and it gives me time to quickly splash water on my face and run a brush through my hair. But that seems to be near impossible, but I realize that Penelope has seen me at my worst, so why am I trying to look presentable when I use to trot around in boxer shorts in front of her? 

Baz and Penny are talking to each other in hushed voices. I don’t dare to move. I’m leaning against the bathtub, only catching only snippets of their conversation.

“He needs to talk to someone, Bunce.”

“I know, but this is Simon we’re talking about.”

“He was asleep on the bathroom floor. His eyes are red.”

Their voices become more quiet to the point where it is barely audible. I try my hardest to listen, but I hear nothing. Penelope shows up at the threshold of the bathroom. She doesn’t say anything but she doesn’t have to. The look she gives me speaks a million words.

“Si, we need to talk.” She says, her eyes soften on me and I feel like I’m on the verge of tears.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being a mess. I want to say. I’m sorry being so weak, I’m sorry for dragging you down with me. You don’t deserve a travesty for a best friend.

“I don’t have anything to say.” I say.

“No,” Baz peeks his head in, “but we do.”

They drag me to the kitchen table and when Penny pours a cup of tea for the three of us, I feel a intervention coming on. I take a sip of the Earl’s Grey, the taste of sugar and honey take over my taste buds.

She only makes my tea like that when she wants to talk about something important.

“Simon,” Penny starts, her hands are shaking slightly, and she sounds nervous. “It’s been two years since the incident with the Mage, and the Humdrum, and I see that you’re slowly recovering but-”

“Stop.” I cut her off before she can finish her sentence. I already know what she’s going say. She’s going to say that I need to get over it and go on with life. 

“You don’t even know what she was going to say, Snow.” Baz says, he’s leaning against the kitchen table with his arms crossed against his chest. “Just let her finish.”

“And let her tell me that I need to grow a pair and let it go? No thanks.” I say, and look away from their stares. Penny sighs, a dark green curl falls over her eye.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say, Simon.”

“But you were thinking it.”

“No,” she says, “what I was going to say, before you interrupted me, was that Baz and I are worried about you. You sleep for half the day, and when you are awake, you’re half alive. You don’t talk to your therapist anymore, even though it’s obviously you badly need someone to talk to. Someone that isn’t Baz and I.”

I scrunch my eyes close and shake my head. I’m trying to swallow the lump that’s swelling in my throat. I don't need to talk to her. I’m fine. I don’t need to talk to anymore.

I’m fine.

“Simon,” Baz says, and I look to see him kneeling in front of me, his hand finds its way to mine, his fingers entwine with mine. “Love, you need help. Please, if you won’t do it for Bunce, can you do it for me?”

I don’t say anything. I’m afraid that if I say anything, chances are I would regret it.  
I don’t want to admit that, yes, there could be a possibility that I need to talk about this. But it’s the fact that if I agree to talk to someone, who’s to say everybody will still look at me the same instead of a wounded bird? 

But the way Baz and Penny are looking me, tugs at my heart. If you look closely, you can see tears trying to form in Penelope’s eyes. Crowley, I’m a horrible person if I making my best friend cry.

I don’t say anything. I can’t find my voice, so I give them a meek nod.

—

Dr. Gibson, or Hazel, as she wanted me to refer her to, picks up the video call on the first ring. She’s changed since we’ve last talked. Her blonde hair is shorter, and her office in the background is a different color. It’s a soft yellow. She smiles at me.

“Good afternoon, Simon,” she says, “it’s been awhile.”

I scratch the back of my neck, sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“Mind telling me why you haven’t been picking up any of my calls?”

I know she knows that I’ve been avoiding her. But I think this is all part of her tactic to try and get me to talk. I don’t say anything. I shrug.

“Haven’t found the right time, I guess.” I say softly.

She nods and I see her reachfor her notepad. I can see her through the computer screen that she’s writing something down.

“Has something been bothering you lately?”

Not really…” I trail off. I feel like she can tell that I’m lying because she leans forward towards the screen.

“You sure there isn’t something you want to talk about?”

“How’s weather like in Chicago?” I ask. She gives me a small smile and leans back against her chair.

“The weather is good, Simon.”

“That’s good.”

I see her fold her hands over her lap. “Is that why you called me? To ask about the weather?”

I look away from her gaze, and stare at a spot on the floor.

“Not exactly.” I say, “I think there is something I want to talk about.”

“And what is that?”

I draw in a deep breath. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“How so?”

I shrug again. “Because no matter what I do, I just can’t shake off this fucking feeling of uselessness. I’m not the same person I once was, and I’m sick of it.”

“You’ve been through a lot, Simon, it takes time to recover from something as hard as what you faced, Simon.”

“Yes, but how much time?” My leg is jiggling like crazy, this only happens when I’m nervous. Or feel myself getting worked up. 

“I can’t say, Simon. It’s different for many people. Some recover quickly, and some take awhile.”

“But I want to get better now.”

“Okay,” she says, and writes in her notebook. “What do you think you should do in order to achieve your goal?”

“I don’t know, I thought maybe you had something in mind.”

“This isn’t about me, this is about you.”

I feel myself getting more and more worked up. I knew this was a waste of time. She can’t help me. I don’t think no one can.

“I just want people to stop looking at me like I’m some damsel who needs saving, I’m not weak, I just want everything back how it used to be.”

Hazel is writing in her notebook some more as I continue to talk. I don’t know what I’m saying, I’m just talking. Why isn’t she saying anything? What is she writing down?

“I’m sorry.” I say. She stops writing and looks up. 

“What are you sorry for?”

I shrug again. “I just felt like it was needed.”

What am I even saying now? I bet she’s not even listening. I bet what she’s actually doing is drawing in that notebook of hers. Suddenly I don’t feel in the mood to talk. I can already feel the tears trying to form.

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

I shut the computer off before she can say anything.

—

Penny comes home half an hour later. She’s carrying a bag of take-out, but I don’t have the appetite to eat. She smiles at me.

“So how did it go?”

It was a complete waste of time. I want to say, but she looks so happy, I don’t want to ruin her day.

“It was good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it <3


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